Union County courier. [volume] (Elk Point, Union County, D.T. [S.D.]) 187?-1913, 1887-06-22

49, -. ~ N0W~
IA singing sensation III her arm
1 claimed hor attention and m oxamina
ton showed that her husband. in hi
ang0r. had crushed the rough kold Of
her bEacelet into the tender flesh, til
her wrist bore . wide mark Of blood
II had dried Into the scales Of thu
snake, and drippcd down among hel
lacos. with : shrill scream she tried
to unclasp II, but the catch was ben,
and would mot give way. Her cry O
terror brought her maid to the room
but their united efforts could not undo
the clasp. Finally Dolores said: "Le,
1t be until Senior Salazar returns, hi
can break It,"
sSenOr PerfectO was in q terrible
passion when he rode away. His fac<
was like death, and DiablO has moi
been ridden for weeks. I'm afraid
there will be mischief done tonight
Dolores did not reprove the talkative
maid, but walking to the window
peered anxiOusly out. Her vision was
bounded by four walls above which
she could lei but little blue sky. She
turned back with q dreadful fear al
her heart.
"lHow strange! it has clouded ur
since Sunday. 1t will storm before
~daybreak, | fear"
"Indeed it will, Sonora. The heaven
Is black now. VIII you want the car.
riage tonight. Jose is waiting for or.
ders.n
mo, unless Senior Salazar returns,
will remain at home. Come with me;
perhaps we car hear il he is coming
Throwing q reb0sa over her head and
shoulders, she caught up her trailing
~draperies, and together they passed
out into the gathering darkness, and
assembled to the roof.
The outlook was forbidding indeed.
Above the Sandoval mountains the
snow clouds were drifting their soft
covering, while over the mesa and
plain the bleak winds from Hell canon
were roaring in mad fury.
(Which road did Senior Salazar
takeYn asked Dolores as they turned
from their fruitless errand to descend
the stairway.
THE north one toward the canon,
Sonora"
II feared 50 much,n shivered Dolo-
res, "but 1t cannot now be helped" and
entering her own room again, she laid
aside her jewels and laces, and slipping
into a soft crimson robe, she crouched
down on q pile Of furs before the fire.
place and waited.
Midnight came, but still no husband,
and rising from her furs, chilled to the
heart, the fire burned to white ashes, Do
loTes tried TO pierce the blackness Of the
winter sky. No comfort there. The
storm unheard through the thick walls
was believing and tearing over the
mountain in mad frenzy, and snow was
piled in great drifts about the statuary
in the placita.
This il q terrible Storm Dolores
muttered to herself. II cannot re-
member one like it. Perfecto must
have sought refuge somewhere and /
may rs well retire."
Christmas morning dawned as fair
M though a storm had never blackened
the face Of the blue sky. The world
looked pure and most lovely under the
thick white mantle glistening in the
sunlight, and told no tales of the wild
nights doings.
Some miners far up the mountain
side, concluding that winter was upon
them, gathered up their scanty belong
ings and sought the lower level. They
came upon a heap in the bottom of the
conon, where the road ran between two
walls of rocks which rose perpendicn-
lar 200 feet. It proved to be a horse
and rider, crushed beyond all hope of
life remaining.
"Went over the cliff in the storm
last night was the terse comment, as
thep raised the mangled form of the
man and prepared to carry it down the
mountain.
"ITowly mother save u.s." calculated
one of the party, as he brushed the
from the dead face. Its Senior
Salazar."
And so it was. In his mad ride he
had spurred his horse too close to the
cliff, and went v the side into the
canon, and it was this that Dolores had
feared, when she asked the road he
had taken. l need not dwell on the
scene in his home when they carried
his lifeless body and laid it in her
room. Though her affection for him
had been more like that of a child for
a parent, she knew that she was the
idol of his heart, and felt that she had
driven him to death. She buried him
in splendid pomp, and spent vast sums
in masses for his soul. Then closing
the doors in her home, she entered the
convent of the Sacret Heart and has
spent her life in supplication for par
don for her unintentional wrong.
Her hair, once the color Of the ra-
ven's wing, is as white as the snow on
mountain peak. The sparkle
and shine of her beautiful eyes have
been quenched in tears. and her light,
quick step has changed to the weary
tread Of the hopeless.
The ranch stands undisturbed yea
after year, moth, mold and rust hold
ing high carnival among the priceless
treasures of the deserted rooms. Nc
one would enter those walls for twice
the wealth to be found there, for the
curse of God seems to rest on it all.
Sister Angela is a veritable saint in
the eyes and the hearts Of the lowly to
whom she is q ministering angel at all
In the hands you SC much admired
she ever carries q silver crucifx, to
which is attached a slender gold chain,
the one my uncle always wore. Every
Christmastide tie seal on her wrist,
made on that fatal night, is bruised
and in fasting and agonizing
prayer she passes the watches of the
hours. Dolores Salazar is dead
to the world, but lives again in the
hearts of the afflicted and downtrod-
den, and will forever live in the men,
Dry of the church as Sister Angela"
But what became of the younger
lover, did he never marry"
s'He sits beside you."
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